


Missing Us

by OnlyOneWoman



Series: Aces of Spades and Hearts [8]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Asshole Dad, Black Metal, Canon Divergence Characters, Cooking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dinner, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Issues, Football | Soccer, Friendship, Homophobia, Insecurity, Irish slang, Loneliness, Longing, Love, Lowbones, M/M, Married Life, Massage, Moonsorrow, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Protectiveness, Silverflint (mentioned), Stress, Theatre, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vikings (series), asexual marriage, domestic life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:20:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10020563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyOneWoman/pseuds/OnlyOneWoman
Summary: This is entirely self-comforting fluff to handle the pain a poor Billy Bones fan has to suffer in season 4. I needed my fluffy, domestic ace husbands - and a lighthearted John Silver - to wrap my wounded fangirl heart in a comforting AU blanket. But in this fic, poor Ned needs it more than I do.Warning for cavities and crying <3If you're a fan of History Channel's "Vikings" and remember Tadhg Murphy's role Arne, or have seen this awesome actor in another role than Ned Low, "my" Ned will be far closer to those than the Ned Low character. And Billy is definately not a "Black Sails season 4 Billy".





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aro-stova (differentsizesofinfinity)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/differentsizesofinfinity/gifts), [AshesOfYggdrasil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesOfYggdrasil/gifts), [thewalruscaptain (nightly_division)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightly_division/gifts).



”Billy’s changed.”  
”Everyone changes. Milk and sugar?”  
”Yes, please.”  
  
Ned takes the unopened soy milk from the kitchen countertop and sweaps up some spilled coffee powder from the floor. John takes one of the cups, sniffs at the soy milk and pours a small ounce of it in his coffee.  
  
”I always forget you don’t use regular milk. Why’s that, by the way? You’re not vegan.”  
”Just don’t like cow milk, that’s all. And Billy never uses it so we don’t buy it. Sugar’s in the blue dish on yer left.”  
”Thanks.”  
  
He takes two spoonfulls and nods when tasting the brew.  
  
”It’s nice. Don’t feel a major difference, actually.”  
”Good. Why are ye worrying ’bout Billy?”  
  
Always straight forward if possible. John takes another sip and Ned grabs his own cup and goes to the table. His and Billy’s kitchen is a damn oasis with a door to the garden, big windows and sunlight shining through. Coming home to this after three days in London including a Moonsorrow concert and a very wet party is entirely something else than landing in a small, lonely apartment. Billy’s covering for a sick co-worker this afternoon and thinks he has a soccer match later, so Ned wont see him until Billy finds out he’s got the wrong date. They’ve only been away from each other a few days and it’s fucking ridiculous how much Ned longs for him. John scratches his beard.  
  
”Well, not exactly worried. I just noticed he’s a bit changed.”  
”In what way?”  
”More calm.”  
  
Ned laughs.  
  
”Is that a bad thing?”  
”No, I mean… He’s just not so outgoing anymore.”  
  
_What the fuck?_  
  
”Uhm… When was he ever outgoing? Have I missed something?”  
”Before he met you, he used to hang out much more, that’s all.”  
”Haven’t locked him in, ye know.”  
”I didn’t say that and it’s not what I think. It’s just that… I guess I don’t reckognize him.”  
”Oh…”  
  
Ned genuinly tries to think. Has Billy spent less time with his friends than usual? Yes, but not because he doesn’t want to see them, but because he’s had a lot to do at work and then there’s been more stuff than usual to work on with the garage and the garden. It’s, after all, their first spring here.  
  
”I don’t think he’s tried to avoid anyone, John. He’s just had some more stuff to do around here and we’ve both had some fucked up working schedules for a while now. Maybe that’s why.”  
”Good. I mean…”  
”Ye thought he avoided ye?”  
  
John looks quizzical for some seconds and then he sighs.  
  
”You know, Ned. I think I know what the problem is.”  
”Yeah?”  
”It’s you.”  
”Flatterer.”  
”No-no-no, I don’t mean it like that!”  
  
Ned just laughs.  
  
”Then just say what the fucking problem is, John, ’cause I aint getting it.”  
”Look, it’s just that for years now, I’ve been able to just call him and as long as he’s not kicking that stupid ball around, he’s always been there. And I know it’s sounds selfish and stupid as fuck, but I don’t feel like he’s around anymore.”  
”Ye told’im that?”  
  
John throws out his hands, almost sweeping the cup in the floor.  
  
”I didn’t want to intrude! Jesus, I just love that you found each other and I still get fucking teary-eyed whenever I see a picture from your wedding, but I know how Billy is with space.”  
”When was the last time ye talked?”  
”A week ago and very brief. He was in a hurry and then he told me he’d call back.”  
”Uh-huh. And he didn’t. I get it. Look John, I can safely promise he’s not forgotten ’bout ye and he’s not mad at ye or anything like that.”  
”Then what’s his fucking problem?”  
”That he tends to worry ’bout his work too much and when he does, he forgets to take care of other things. Open the fridge.”  
”The fridge? Why?”  
”Just open it.”  
  
John moves to open it and Ned nods.  
  
”Ye see any molded vegs in there? Down to the left.”  
”Uhm… yeah. And?”  
”Just as I thought. He said he’d make a ratatouille while I was away and he’s forgotten ’bout it, probably ’cause he’s been working too much and lived on take-aways again. If ye look under the sink, I bet ye’ll find at least four or five boxes.”  
  
John immediately opens the door to the sink.  
  
”Four.”  
”Well, there’s yer answer. Billy doesn’t even like those damn boxes, so I bet he’s just a bit stressed out. Also explains why he forgot to answer me text ’bout shopping.”  
”He’s always been bad at texting back.”  
”I know, but the list I texted included lube and rubbers and he’s still not called to ask what the fuck’s wrong with me. Trust me, John, he’s stressed out.”  
”You have a fucking weird way of finding that out.”  
  
Ned shrugs.  
  
”Eh. Works pretty well. Bet he’s even forgotten what day it is.”  
”You have an anniversary or something?”  
”Not that I know of, but it’s Saturday and if I know me silly husband right, he probably thinks it’s Sunday and is panicking ’cause he thinks he’s got an away game and once he’s back home, realising the game isn’t until tomorrow and at home, he’ll be so fucking grumpy.”  
  
John looks more than puzzled.  
  
”You scare me, Ned.”  
”Cause I know how Billy gets when he’s stressed? Very scary.”  
”Guess I’ve been overreacting.”  
”Aye. Next time, just tell’im right away.”  
”Or ask you. You seem to know what he’s doing better than he does.”  
”We’re both pretty predictable. How are ye and James by the way?”  
”As usual. Good. He’s at his mothers.”  
  
So that’s why John’s suddenly concearned about Billy today. He feels lonely and starts thinking too much. Ned hides a smile as he looks through the fridge and finds the potatos, onions, cheese and cream.  
  
”I’m making a gratin for dinner. Wanna stay and eat with us? And before ye ask: no, it’s not a trouble and no, me and Billy wont die if we’re not alone all night.”  
”In that case, yes thank you. Want any help with that?”  
”Ye can chop the onions.”  
  
Ned texts his husband, telling about the dinner guest but he doesn’t expect an answer. Billy will probably be back in less than ten minutes, not hearing the phone, but better safe than sorry. Ned puts some music on and starts peeling the potatos. John slices them and they chat a bit. After a while, a familiar sound from the driveway elicits a smile from Ned and when the door opens, he dries his hands off and goes to the hallway. Billy has a sheepish smile on his face.  
  
”Didn’t see your text until I got home. Bastard.”  
”Glad to see ye too, babe.”  
  
His silly husband puts the keys on the dresser and practically lifts Ned off the floor. He smells like early spring and after shave and Ned nuzzles his neck.  
  
”Missed ye so much.”  
”Missed you too.”  
  
Ned secretly loves that Billy can lift him up this easy. Sometimes when people stare at his husband’s biceps in a way too obvious manner, Ned takes Billy’s hand and smiles, thinking ”that’s right, those arms spoon _me_ at night, bitches”. The insecurity he once felt from other’s stares at Billy, is long since gone. Billy gives him a kiss on cheek.  
  
”How was the concert?”  
”Fucking magic.”  
”Have to admit, I was a bit worried by that pic you sent me.”  
  
Ned snickers. He and Ben sent a selfie to Billy and Jacob, picturing a warpainted and half-naked Ned sitting on Ben’s shoulders in the crowd.   
  
”Ye didn’t like it?”  
”God, you looked fucking _gorgeous_ … And I bet there were chicks in that crowd thinking just the same.”  
”Ben had me covered and no true fan goes to a Moonsorrow concert to hit on people. That’s what ye do on yer way out. And if anyone did that, I was still too fucking plastered and deaf to notice it.”  
”Hey! Stop clinging and drooling out there! We’re gonna eat soon.”  
  
John yells at them and Billy promptly lifts Ned up on his own shoulder and enters the kitchen where the human poodle puts a finishing layer of cheese on the gratin and rolls his eyes.  
  
”You two are just disgusting.”  
”Hello to you too, John. Where’s the ginger?”  
”At his mothers.”  
”And you didn’t want to come along? How surprising…”  
”She hates my guts.”  
”She really doesn’t.”  
”Alright, maybe not, but she’s old as fuck and she always looks at me with that English noble mouth.”  
”She’s looking at you with her mouth? Impressive.”  
”You don’t understand. She’s just really old and really lady-like and I feel like trash.”  
”That’s because you _are_ trash, just like us. You’re aussie trash, I’m Coalville trash and Ned is, well…”  
  
Ned gives a crooked smile.  
  
”A one-eyed Dublin scum with a family tree full of alcoholics and Maggies.”  
  
John looks puzzled.  
  
”What’s a Maggie?”  
”Bures being locked up in so called Magdalene launderies for having kids out of wedlock or just being seen as potential slags. Me grandma’s sister was sent to one of those hell holes for getting knocked up when she was fourteen. Took more than fifty years before the let her out.”  
”Holy shit…”  
”Aye, a big part of me family is the definition of trash. It’s even on paper.”  
”I still think James’ mom hates me, even if I’m not Irish.”  
  
Ned snorts.  
  
”Maybe I should’ve saved the letter from me old man. That’s some hate reading, I’ll tell ye. John, be a darling and put in the gratin and set the timer on twentyfive and please, muppet, put me down already.”  
  
Billy gently lowers him and plants a kiss on his hair, rubbing his neck a little in an almost oblivious comforting gesture. John looks sad as he turns on the timer on the oven.  
  
”He’s not changed at all, huh?”  
”Not one bit. Lets see, what did he call us this time, hon?”  
”Amoebas.”  
”Ah, that’s right. Queer amoebas.”  
  
John seems very confused.  
  
”Amoebas? How? Why?”  
”Me eldest sister happened to tell’im we’re ace because apparently that’s ’bloody obvious’, her words, and I guess once she’d spent an hour or so trying to explain that to an old pig who’s been known to try and get his dick wet whenever a feek as much as look at’im, that there are men who actually don’t fuck even if they can, he degraded us from piteogs to protozoa.”  
”I don’t understand a third of those words, but what a total dickhead! Amoebas are pretty awesome, though.”  
  
Billy raises his eyebrows.  
  
”How so?”  
”Think about it! We have to fuck in order to procreate. It’s not even always effective, our spawn can end up being the next Hitler and once we’re born, we will literally die if we’re not looked after for long fucking years. Amoaebas are kickass! They just split, take up very little space, don’t need diapers and daycare…”  
  
Both Ned and Billy are practically weeping from laughter. Whatever faults John has, one can always trust him to raise spirits.  
  
”And talking about space, people should be fucking happy for gays as well. I mean, except from closet cases who’re having straight sex as a cover-up, it usually takes a _lot_ more than a broken condom before we start to pump out units. And you ace people must be every epidemiologists fucking darlings! You don’t even spread the chlam.”  
”Fucks sake, John!”  
”We’re gonna eat here, ye asshole!”  
  
John just grins at them. It’s not about pretending the letter didn’t hurt, they all know that. But they’ve also grown up in the nineties, where the level of acceptance was lower than now and one way to deal with a society where more people than now called them abnormal, sick, contagious and potential molesters, was to laugh it off when they could. The wound may still be there, but it’s not allowed to take over.  
  
John sets the table and then goes out for a smoke while Billy opens a bottle of wine and Ned makes a salad. He’s still a bit sore from the concert and, as always, his husband tends to his neck without Ned having to ask. The hands, God he loves Billy’s hands. Long, tender fingers that seem to know exactly where Ned’s muscles are tense and aching and he realises how much he longs for closeness. To be touched.  
  
”Ye wanna cuddle later? When John’s left.”  
”Don’t wanna wait that long… But I guess we’ll have to.”  
  
Ned smiles and tilts his head a little as Billy nuzzles his hair.  
  
”How about I give you some massage and then we catch up on _Vikings_?”  
”I like that plan. And I don’t want to sleep alone t’night…”  
”Me neither. Felt really lonely while you were gone.”  
  
The true extent of that loneliness, the one he feels too whenever they’re parted for more than the day, hits Ned so sudden and with such force, he’s completely taken by surprise. Within seconds he’s an absolute mess of tears and has forgotten all about John who’ll be back inside any moment. He doesn’t even understand why he’s crying, he very rarely does. Billy leans down to his ear.  
  
”Lets go upstairs, babe. I’ll ask John to watch the oven.”  
  
Ned reluctantly lets go of him and goes to their shared bedroom that’s not been used the last two nights. He sits down at his side of the bed, trying to calm down because this is fucking stupid. Soon he hears Billy’s steps in the stairs and the sound of the bedroom door closing behind him. Then he’s being wrapped in two massive arms and just held close for a while as Billy strokes his arms.  
  
”Is it the letter?”  
”No… Or… I don’t fucking know.”  
”It’s alright, hon. Whatever it is, we’ll fix it. You know that, right?”  
”Aye… God, I feel so fucking stupid for saying this since I’ve been the one going away, but I just need for ye to be home with me for a while now.”  
”Then I’ll be at home, Ned. You always come first for me. And if you need to talk abou that letter, you just say so. Okay?”  
”Okay… Sorry ’bout this.”  
”Don’t apologies. I’ve been a bit absent lately, I know that. But as soon as John gets his ass out of here, it’s just you and me for the rest of this weekend.”  
”Ye have a game tomorrow.”  
”Screw that. You’re more important.”  
”John misses ye. He thinks ye’ve changed.”  
”Huh?”  
”He thought ye’d been avoiding him ’cause of me.”  
”What’s he been smoking? You told him I’ve worked overtime, right?”  
”Of course. He calmed down pretty fast. Unlike me, it seems.”  
”Honey?”  
”Yeah?”  
”This _is_ about the letter, right? About your dad being a dickhead and to be honest, we’ve not really talked about it.”  
”What’s there to talk about?”  
”The fact that he’s calling his own son names and makes him feel like shit when he is, in fact, the most wonderful man alive that only makes me happier by every day.”  
”Fucks sake, Billy…”  
  
His husband rocks him, planting kisses on his neck.  
  
”I love you so much I feel like I’m lost when you’re not with me, Ned. And if anyone’s hurting you… You know a quite big part of me just wanted to take the next plane to Dublin and beat the shit out of him when I saw that letter. I still want to.”  
”Actually, that’s an oddly comforting thought right now.”  
  
Hands stroking. Hands knowing exactly where not to go and where they’re at most welcome.  
  
”What about ye, muppet? Been rushing for a little too long now.”  
  
Billy turns him around to face him. He removes some long strains from Ned’s face and smiles, eyes warm and safe.  
  
”I have, but I spoke to my boss this Friday and there’ll be no more overtime like these last weeks now. She finally found another employee that’ll start in a week or so.”  
”Really?”  
”Yep. And I’ll make some plans with John next week and to hell with the game tomorrow. I just want to be with you.”  
  
Most of the tension leaves Ned and Billy gives him a long, wet kiss that makes his face heat.  
  
”Think we should get back to the kitchen…”  
”We should. Lets go.”  
  
Billy pulls him up from the bed and Ned goes to the bathroom to wash his face that looks a bit sullen. When he enters the kitchen, the gratin is on the table and Billy’s making three plates while John blabbers on about something Ned hardly listens to. He’s far more tired than he thought and sits quiet for most of the dinner, but not uncomfortable. Afterwards, Billy makes coffee for himself and John, tea for Ned, and ten minutes later James calls John, asking if he wants to be picked up. Apparently, his mother’s left and John graciously accepts the offer. Ned has a hard time not showing how relieved he is. It’s not that he doesn’t like spending time with John. It’s just not a good time right now.  
  
When John’s left, Billy puts away the dishes.  
  
”This was really nice, babe.”  
”Thanks. Ye’re sure ’bout not playing tomorrow?”  
”I’m sure. I already texted Morley.”  
  
Their hobbies are important, so this means a lot to Ned, even if he feels a little guilty too.  
  
”It’s not really fair, thou. I’ve been away for days.”  
”Come on. You’ve not seen that band in years. I play games every other weekend. And you’ve worked a lot lately too.”  
  
Maybe. If you count the garden, the house and the theatre in as well. They’re putting up _A Doll’s House_ this season and Ned plays a major roll, the antagonist Nils Krogstad. It’s an amateur group, but they take their work seriously and this weekend has been the first performance gap in six weeks. Billy wraps his arms around him and Ned leans against his chest.  
  
”Guess I’ve just missed ye. Missed _us_. And then that fucking letter…”  
”Are you mad at Fiona?”  
”Not really. She was drunk and it just slipped her. Think she feels worse than I do. And me dad usually doesn’t have this good memory. And _I_ usually don’t care ’bout his bullshit…”  
  
But now he’s felt lonely and tired and sometimes it just becomes too much, even for Ned. His husband knows that, feels it as he lets his fingers run over Ned’s neck and down his shoulders.  
  
”What do you say, hon? Massage or _Vikings_ first? Don’t want your dad to ruin our evening.”  
”Ye’re not too tired, then? For massage? Ouch!”  
  
Billy’s sensitive fingers have found a particularly sore spot on Ned’s left side of the neck.  
  
”If I was I wouldn’t make the offer, babe. Let’s go to bed.”  
  
It’s still amazing. The space between them that only seems to make them feel closer. When it comes to this, there’s no uncertainty what so ever. After many years, their bodies are finally safe from unwanted touches, from the tension and worry. They can touch and cuddle, lie swirled in bed together or just give a goodnight kiss before sleeping in separate rooms, knowing their unusual boarders will be respected.  
  
Almost naked cuddles is still a bit new to them. In this form, at least. A form that suits them. Ned lays in his shorts on their shared bed as Billy works through his tense muscles. His husband treats his body with such care, almost reverence. His focus is entirely on making Ned feel good, but at the same time it’s so clear Billy’s relishing in doing it.  
  
”John’s right, you know.”  
”Bout what?”  
”That I’ve changed since meeting you.”  
”Ye know he only said that ’cause he misses ye, right?”  
”Perhaps, but I’ve still changed. And I’m glad I have.”  
”How… have ye changed?”  
  
The massage makes him drousy and wonderfully relaxed. Billy plants little kisses down his spine and the oil he uses smells from eucalyptus.  
  
”I’m not as anxious as I used to be. I no longer feel that urge to compensate, you know. To run around and just act ’normal’ all the time and be so fucking outgoing. I never liked it.”  
”Ye’ve not told him ye didn’t like it?”  
”He’s always so good at reading people, I figured he knew that.”  
”He didn’t. Ye have to tell’im that next time ye see’im.”  
”Damn.”  
”And it’s not as if ye can only meet in crowded places.”  
”No, it’s just happened to be like that. I play video games with Charles, go to parties with John and play soccer with Charles and Morley. I actually don’t know why it’s divided like that.”  
”Um… Because ye share different interests? But ye should take some night and hang out with John here, just the two of ye. I still have two weeks left with _A Doll’s House._ Two shows next Sunday and one the Saturday after that.”  
”You have a break then?”  
”Uh-huh. We’ll not start working on another play until June.”  
”Not even regular rehersals?”  
”Not even that.”  
”Then the only problem is my practise and games.”  
”The real problem here, is that I’m a fucking flute who starts moping when I don’t have it my way.”  
  
Billy stops kneading and lays down beside him, stroking a slightly oily thumb over his cheek.  
  
”I don’t think it’s about that. You should’ve had this years ago. _We_ should’ve had it years ago. It’s not moping, it’s just… making up for lost time. And I need it just as much as you.”  
  
Ned sighs.  
  
”Guess I just hate it when it’s too much going on.”  
”Fucking _finally_ …”  
”Huh?”  
”I’ve been on my way of stating the obvious for an hour because you didn’t seem to figure it out by yourself. I’m not the only one who’s a bit stressed out here, babe.”  
  
His husband chuckles against Ned’s skin, lips eliciting goosebumps and Ned grabs the fabric of his t-shirt.  
  
”I want skin too… So put on _Vikings_.”  
  
He gets a tickling pinch for his teasing, but the tension is gone now. They can’t do much about Ned’s dad or control all of their time as they’d wish, but they sure as hell can shut him, work and the world out of their cuddles. Placed in his husband’s lap, with the laptop on his thighs and the massive arms tucking him in, things that felt like big problems just an hour ago, fade to nothing.  
  
The warmth of Billy’s skin, the occasional kisses he places on his neck, the way he cradles Ned’s body in moments like this is their most intimate kind of intimacy. Talking is another one and so is silence. Their affection has so many faces and this is only one of them. The bond they’ve made goes so deep, they sometimes need distance. Sometimes both, sometimes only one of them. When that happens, this bedroom is closed until they both want to share beds again.  
  
Ned soon goes heavy against his husband’s soft, strong body. In the small sliver between sleep and wake, he grasps for Billy’s hand and Billy smiles in the brown, slightly tangled hair. Early tomorrow morning, when Ned’s still asleep, Billy will go out in the garage, call Phelan Low and threaten to show up alone by his doorstep when they’re visiting Ned’s mother, to punch the asshole’s teeth out. After all, there’s only so much spiteful shit Billy can ignore or laugh away when it comes to the man he loves. Then he’ll call John and when all that’s done, he’ll make his husband a nice breakfast before they begin their first spring work in the garden.  
  
**THE END**


End file.
